Text 3054, 257 rader
Skriven 2005-11-21 04:20:10 av Greg Sears (3:633/104)
     Kommentar till en text av George Pope
Ärende: Re: F unny
==================
 GP> On (20 Nov 05) Greg Sears wrote to J. RANDY MITCHELL...
 GS>                   IN ANSWER TO "WHAT'S WRONG?"

 -=> 19-Nov-2005 23:26, George Pope wrote in a message to Greg Sears <=-

 GP> But when a MAN is asked the question his wife can interpret it much
   > easier:
   > "nothin" -- nothing, leave him the fuck alone!
   > "life sucks" -- give him a beer & blowjob
   > "if you don't know..." -- kick his ass out the door, you married a
   > queer "My dick's too small" -- he just met your boyfriend at the gym

  OR maybe like .......this old man goes home one day and as he passes
his daughter's bedroom door, he hears a strange sound. Bruuur...bruuur...
wheeeezz...etc.

 He opens the door only to find his daughter clutching a vibrator. "What
are you doing with that?" asks the old man. "I'm 40 years old, single and
past having a chance of hooking as husband, so this is the next best
thing" replied his daughter. With that, the old man closes the door &
leaves her to it.

The next day the daughter comes home from work and on passing the living
room, hears a strange noise. Bruuur...bruuur...etc. She opens the door,
only to find the old man clutching a pint in one hand and clutching her
vibrator in the other! "What do you think you're doing?" she asked her
father.

  Having a drink with my son-in-law!


> OBEpitaphs: for our Moderator and all-round friend/servant

        Hatfield, Mass.
Beneath this stone
        A lump of clay
Lies Arabella Young
Who on the 21st of May
        1771
Began to hold her tongue.

        Manchester, Connecticut, 1790
My life is done, my Race is run
My resting place is here.
This stone is got to keep the Spot
Lest men should dig too near.

        Stowe, Vermont
A rum cough carried him off.

Death is a Debt
To Nature Due
Which I have Paid
And so must you.

        Connecticut Cemetery
        (Dentist's epitaph)
"When on this tomb you gaze with gravity,
Cheer up!  I'm filling my LAST CAVITY."

He's done a-catching cod.
And gone to meet his God.

A man had cremated four wives and the ashes,
kept in four urns, being overturned and
fallen together, were buried together, at
last, with this inscription:

Stranger pause and shed a tear,
For Mary Jane lies buried here.
Mingled in a most surprising manner
With Susan, Marie and portions of Hannah.

A Pauper's Grave

Poorly lived
And poorly died,
Poorly buried,
And no one cried.

From New Jersey

Reader, pass on, don't waste your time
On bad biography and bitter rhyme:
For what I am, this crumbling clay insures,
And what I was is no affair of yours.

To the Husbands of Ivy Saunders

1790   1794   1808   18--

Here lies my husbands, One, Two, Three.
    Dumb as men could ever be
As for my Fourth, well, praise be God
He bides for a little above the sod.
    Alex, Ben, Sandy were the
    First three names
    And to make things tidy
    I'll add his.....James.

To Fredrick Twitchell

            Dep June 11, 1811
            Aged 24 yrs, 5 mos.

Here lie the bones of Lazy Fred,
Who wasted precious time in bed.
Some plaster fell down on his head,
  And thanks be praised....Our
      Freddie's dead.

Too Much To Late

Here lies I and my three daughters,
Killed by drinking Cheltenham waters,
If we'd kept to Epsom Salts,
We wouldn't be lying in these 'ere vaults.


Here lies the Mother of Twenty-eight,
It might have been more, but now it's too late.


From the churchyard, Aberdeen

Here lies the bones of Elizabeth Charolotte,
Born a virgin, died a harlot.
She was aye a virgin at seventeen,
A remarkable thing in Aberdeen.

From Rockville, Mass.

      In memory of Jane Bent
Who kick'd her heels and away she went.


From St. Agnes's Churchyard, Cornwell.

Here lies the body of Joan Carthew,
Born at St. Columb; died at St. Cue:
Children she had five,
Three dead and two alive:
Those that are dead choosing rather
To die with their mother than live with their father.


The Tomb of an Engine-Driver
Broomsgrove Churchyard.

My engine now is cold and still,
No water does my boiler fill,
My coke affords its flame no more:
My whistle, too, has lost its tune,
Its shrill and thrilling sounds are gone:
My valves are now thrown open wide:
My flanges all refuse to glide,
Life's railway o'er, each station's passed,
In death I'm stopped, and rest at last,
Farewell, dear friends, and cease to weep:
In Christ I'm safe: in Him I sleep.


From the County, Waterford

Here lies the remains of John Hall, grocer,
The world is not worth a fig, and
I have good raisens for saying so.


On a gravestone in Ulster

      Erected to the memory of
          JOHN PHILLIPS
         Accidentally Shot
  As a mark of affection by his brother.


On a grave in Thrustonbville, America

      Here lies John Dalyrymple
      He picked a pimple.


On a headstonin Collingbourne Ducis, Wiltshire

      Blown Upward
      Out of Sight
    He Sought The Leak
     By Candlelight


On a headstone in Texas

    Here lies my poor wife,
      A sad slatern and shrew,
    If I said I regretted her
      I should lie too.


On a grave in Somerset

  Dead drunk old Susan oft was found;
  But now she's laid beneath the ground,
    As door-nail dead - alas the day!
  Her nose was red, and moist as clay.
    From morn to night, of care bereft,
  She plied her glass, and wet h throttle,
    Without a sigh her friends she left
  But much she griev'd to leave her bottle.

Poems and epitaphs are but stuff:
Here lieser,
My great-grandmother...mother to my grandmother,
My grandmother's daughter and her mother.


On a grave in Sierra Cityl

    Here lie the
  Jones Boys Twins
   As Dead as Nits:
  One died of Fever
      One of Fits.

From Burlington

  Beneath this stod
      Is turned into hay.
  Now when the reapers her away do take
  My, what a whopping haystack she will make!


> OBJoke: for Mr. <+]::-{(} ("Cyberpope")

A wanton young mermaid named Jones
Elicited undersea moans
   From guys aqualunging
   By saltily tonguing
Their divers erogenous zones.

There was a young man from the coast
Who had an affair with a ghost.
  At the height of orgasm
  Said the pallid phantasm,
"I think I can feel it--almost!"


Salutations from --Christchurch-+
  ICE-man in      /\            |          \ | /   Mountains, Sunshine
 New Zealand     /  \/\         |  /\     -- O --   Forestry, Farming
-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^/      \!!ii,,..@-/==\---^-^-^-^-^ Beaches and Surfing


...  "Janet!", "Dr. Scott!", "Janet!", "Brad!", "Rocky!", "Bullwinkle!"

--- EzyBlueWave V2.01b006 00F90257
 * Origin: Afraid of the competition? We ARE the Competition! (3:633/104)